


If You Love Him

by EliMiguel



Category: Unfinished work - Fandom
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fear of losing, Heartache, Heartbreak, If you love him set him free if he comes back to you he’s yours if not he never was, M/M, Unrequited Love?, hiding the truth for your friend's sake, men who love other men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:31:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliMiguel/pseuds/EliMiguel
Summary: After Marcus and Esca return the Eagle, Esca is recognized by a member of his father's tribe, who thinks Esca's place is with them, and not at the side of a Roman; no matter how good of a person that Roman may be. Will Esca decide to stay with Marcus, or will he decide to assume his rightful place as Chieftain of the Brigantes?





	1. Chapter One

Marcus and Esca had made it back from the north safe and sound, not that anyone who knew of their adventures had expected them too. Nevertheless, they had returned triumphant, much to Uncle Aquila’s joy. 

Esca hadn’t slit Marcus’ throat the moment they’d crossed the Wall into the territories, as the old man suspected he might. Besides that, Esca had helped Marcus retrieve both the Eagle and the Flavia family honor. 

It should’ve been that upon their return, with the Ninth Legion’s golden standard, both men were welcomed home as 'Heroes of the Empire'; especially since if it hadn’t been for Esca, a headless Marcus wouldn't be back in Calleva, but hanging upside down from some tree in Caledonia. 

But Rome did not see things that way. 

To Romans, Esca was no more than a slave forced to follow his master wherever his master ventured: no ifs, ands, or buts. To Romans Esca had done no more, or no less than what he was supposed to do: follow his master like a faithful dog and protect him from all harm. 

Of course, had any of those Romans been in Marcus’ caligae, the outcome would’ve been the very one Uncle Aquila predicted, and then they would’ve understood the worth behind Esca’s unwavering honor and fidelity. 

In any case, Marcus and Esca were back in Calleva and no one was happier than the two of them.

The journey back home had been an uneventful one, except for an unexpected meeting that happened the very evening they returned the Eagle to the Legate of the Sixth Legion and some visiting senators in Eburacum. 

Upon leaving the administrative building, Marcus had told Esca that it was up to him where they went next, and Esca had decided a stop at the baths should be the first thing they did, followed by a good hot meal and a nice peaceful night’s sleep.

Their time in the baths was relaxing. 

The two of them turned deaf ears to the occasional whisper as to what a Roman soldier -for there was no mistaking Marcus’ physique for anything other than that of a soldier- was doing with a barbarian talking, laughing, and bathing as though they were equals. 

They didn’t know who Marcus and Esca were; and had they known, their opinion of ‘the barbarian,’ wouldn’t have changed in the least, but they probably would’ve understood the ease between them much better. 

After the baths, feeling lighter, and smelling much better than they had when they first walked in, Marcus and Esca made their way to the inn one of the bathers had recommended as being the best in town. 

First, Marcus secured a room for them, and then they both made their way to the dining area which was not as full as they expected it to be. The room was dimly lit, and it’s low ceiling, the dark wood benches and small rectangular tables, made it look even darker. Marcus pointed to a table at the far-right corner of the room and he and Esca made their way to it.

Esca didn’t notice another patron, a Briton like himself, following his every move with his eyes. 

The man’s eyes had been pinned on Esca from the moment Esca had entered the room walking behind Marcus. The man’s alabaster brow had furroughed at the sight of the small figure and he’d whispered something to the two other men at his table; all three of them had turned to look. 

When Marcus sat down, he immediately caught the three men watching his table with unashamed interest, but he didn’t mention it to Esca who sat with his back to them. After eating their meal, and drinking more than enough wine, to celebrate the return of the Ninth’s Eagle earlier that day, and their safe return, Marcus arose from the bench to go to the latrine. It was then he noticed the man who'd furroughed his brow at the sight of Esca, approaching them. 

Marcus sat back down.

Esca was inspecting a dagger Marcus had bought for him from a vendor as they'd made their way to the inn. It wasn’t as beautifully crafted as his father’s dagger - it’s handle of ivory and silver - but it was beautiful just the same; in a Roman way. 

The man came to stand beside Esca with the other two men flanking him.

“Are you Esca MacCunoval of the Brigantes?” The man asked in Brittonic without acknowledging Marcus’ gaze. Esca first looked up at Marcus, who was staring at the man, and then he turned to face this stranger who seemed to know who he was.

“Yes, I...,” but his reply was cut short when Esca realized the man was no stranger. Esca stood up from his bench slowly, wide eyed, and mouth gaping.

“Varney!” Esca seemed overcome with emotion. “Old friend.” The two men embraced tightly as the men flanking Varney smiled and nodded their approval.

Varney, a man no more than a foot taller than Esca, with shocking reddish orange hair, a huge mustache, and the bluest eyes Marcus had ever seen, stepped back from the embrace still holding firmly onto Esca’s shoulders, “I thought you dead, my prince. We all did! It is true we did not find your body, and that gave us hope, but your falling into the hands of the Romans was no better than your being dead.”

“I was a slave for seven years, until I was thrown into the arena for refusing to obey my master.” Varney and the two men behind him turned fiery eyes at Marcus but Esca assured them that Marcus wasn’t the master he spoke of. Esca didn’t explain who the other master had been or what he’d done, or failed to do that won him a death sentence in the arena. 

What Esca did explain to Varney and his companions, was who Marcus was, and how he’d saved him from that death sentence; that Marcus had freed him, and what the two of them were doing in Eburacum. 

Of course, Esca omitted the details as to how he’d gained his freedom, as well as their true purpose in town. He merely said Marcus was interested in starting a horse farm in Calleva and they had come to town looking for a horse trader. 

The three men offered Marcus a respectful nod and nothing more. 

Feeling like an intruding stranger at a family reunion, Marcus decided to go where he’d intended to go before Varney and friends had approached their table: the latrine. At least there he could sit in peace without three angry looking strangers shooting him hateful glares every two or three minutes. He was hoping they’d be long gone by the time he got back. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t.

Esca’s grey eyes locked on Marcus’ green ones as the Roman retook his place on the bench. Esca introduced Varney, and the other two men to Marcus as Osker and Weylin. All three had taken a seat across from Marcus and Esca’s table: Varney on the edge of the table, flanked by his two friends. 

Esca told Marcus Varney was Brigantes, like himself, and his friends were Carvetii. The three had miraculously survived the massacre that ended the lives of Esca’s family and most of his tribe, because they had been sent to Hibernia on a trade mission by Cunoval, himself.

“There are still many of us remaining, my prince.” Varney began. “Many who ran away when they heard the rumors of what the Romans were planning. As of a few years, those of us who can, have returned, but we are lost without the guidance of our Chieftain.”

Esca nodded his head understanding what Varney had meant by the “rumors” of the impending Roman attack. His father, Cunoval, had heard the same rumors, but he’d paid them no mind. There wasn’t much he could do even if he had. He was chieftain of the mighty Brigantes, after all, and there was no packing up and running away for him, or his sons. Esca’s mother could have gone to her family in Hibernia, but she refused to leave her husband’s side, nor that of her sons arguing that her place was where she stood. If her husband and sons were going to die, she was no better than they, and her life no more precious than theirs.

Marcus sat watching the interaction between Esca and Varney wishing he could understand what they were saying since Esca had abandoned Latin to speak in his own language. But while Varney would turn to relay certain facts to his friends, Esca would use the opportunity to bring Marcus up to speed, although he failed to share everything with his friend and former master. 

Consideration for his friend kept Esca from telling Marcus any more than what the Roman needed to know. 

After all, Esca and Varney were discussing some of the worst moments in Esca’s life and those horrific memories featured Romans doing what Romans were famous for: killing, pillaging, raping, and enslaving. Marcus did not need to hear that… not at this moment in time. Esca would share it with him when, and if, the right time ever arose.

It meant a lot to Marcus that Esca kept him abreast of what was being said even though neither Varney, nor his friends, looked pleased with their countryman’s obsequious attention toward their enemy. An enemy that was Esca’s enemy as well, even if he seemed to have forgotten it, judging by his demeanor and ease in the company of the Roman.

Meanwhile, Marcus didn’t let his disappointment show, but he sat wishing the evening had gone as he and Esca had planned. Esca had decided after dinner, they would go upstairs and drink themselves into a dead sleep, and leave for Calleva whenever they awoke, since time was no longer a factor. Now, Marcus doubted any of that would come to pass. 

A few minutes later Marcus’ suspicions would prove to be right.

“My prince, I ask that you accompany us back to our homestead, for there are many who will find renewed hope at the sight of you.” Varney asked humbly as Osker and Weylin enthusiastically agreed.

At first Esca was taken aback, not knowing if he was ready to confront that part of his life he’d thought long dead. There would be people there, music, and foods that would remind him of a life he’d long learned to put behind him, and he wasn’t sure if those were memories he wished to reawaken. He was not ready, but perhaps if Marcus would join him, he’d have the Roman’s strength to lean on.

“Marcus, will you come with me? Varney here wants me to visit the homestead where the Brigantes now live. Would you like to join me?” Esca asked Marcus knowing full well he shouldn’t have asked Marcus anything of the sort the moment the question left his lips.

Knowing better, and thinking with a clearer head than Esca’s, Marcus immediately shook his head. “Although I wish I could, my friend, I cannot.”

Although he would’ve liked nothing better than for Marcus to be at his side when he faced his past, Esca was happy Marcus had declined the offer. The Roman had as much business in a Brigante’ homestead, as Esca had donning a senator’s robes and sitting in on a session at the Senate House. 

None whatsoever.

“You go ahead.” Marcus smiled and jerked his head in the direction of the door.

“And what will you do while I’m gone?” Esca asked feeling as though he were letting his dear friend down, for they had made plans for that night.

“I think I have drunk more wine than I should have, my friend.” Marcus laughed, “Therefore, I am going to go up to the room and let Hypnos draw me into a deep sound sleep.”

“Very well then. I shall be there when you awaken.” Esca assured his former master who felt as though a part of him was about to detach itself from his body.

Feeling guilty for having to leave his friend behind, and unable to formulate a good enough reason as to why he couldn’t go to the homestead to visit the remaining Brigantes, Esca clasped Marcus’ forearm and bade him ‘good night.’

Marcus couldn’t help the feeling of foreboding as his eyes met Varney’s and the man pulled a sly smile. 

The Roman watched Esca walk in front of the three men as they exited the dining room and a heaviness overtook his heart.

Would Esca really be there when he woke up in the morning, or was this the very last time he’d ever see his friend?


	2. Chapter Two

Marcus had not slept all night. He hadn’t been able to forget the sly smile Varney had flashed at him before following Esca out of the inn. 

What had it meant? Marcus had an idea, but he did not want to dwell on what it may have meant, and the fact Esca hadn’t kept his word about being there when Marcus awoke, wasn’t helping matters either.

Of course, it should not have come as a surprise to Marcus if Esca had not returned because he had decided to assume his rightful place as Chieftain of the Brigantes; especially after having been reunited with them. Marcus had given Esca his freedom at the river, after all. 

It would not be as though Esca were walking away from the oath he had made Marcus to never abandon him and serve him loyally. Esca had paid his debt to Marcus and Marcus would be the first to admit it, but it was exactly that admission that at the moment, had Marcus on pins and needles. 

Upon Esca’s arrival at the homestead, now occupied by remnants of his tribe, as well as members of client tribes of the Brigantes, Esca had been royally welcomed: as their prince. He had been treated to great quantities of food, mead, and entertainment.

It was not until after the mid-day meal when the door to their room had opened and there stood a smiling Esca that Marcus was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Esca apologized for not having kept his word, and his explanation was understandable; if it had not been… Marcus was just glad his friend had returned to him. 

“Marcus would you like to join me at the baths before we take to the road?” 

Marcus joined Esca for the sake of company since he had already been to the baths that morning. Esca, it seemed, was in dire need of the baths after having come from a strenous sparring session, an early morning hunt, and a long tiring ride back to the inn. The two men packed the few belongings they had with them and left the inn, intending to head out to Calleva following Esca’s visit to the baths. 

One week later they arrived at the front gate much to Stephanos’ speechless surprise. 

The old Greek slave was overseeing the planting of a few roses bushes, and had not expected to see the young master riding up on his black mare, ever again. Stephanos, had agreed with old Aquila’s thought that Marcus’ quest for the lost Eagle, would find him following in his dead father’s footsteps. And yet, here he was: safe, sound, and alive. It seemed everyone had underestimated the small Brigantes. Everyone but Marcus, that is.

Stephanos ran into the villa calling out for his master as Marcus dismounted his mare and followed behind him. After having walked the horses to the stable, Esca too entered the villa and was greeted by a joyous Uncle Aquila, wearing the widest and happiest smile Esca had ever seen on anyone. 

“My nephew was right to trust you, Esca. How can I ever thank you for bringing him back home safely?” It seems Uncle Aquila had given up all hope of Marcus ever returning from the North, if he had ever had hopes of Marcus returning in the first place; which if he wanted to be honest with himself… he had not. Uncle Aquila had not warned Marcus about Esca slitting his throat, the moment they crossed the Wall, only to hear himself talk: he actually believed that was what would happen. “Your presence in this house has come as a blessing from the gods to all of us, my boy, and I, for one, could not be more grateful to them, and to you.” The older man took Esca into a warm tight hug. Once released, Esca showed his appreciation at Uncle Aquila’s words with a quick nod of the head and a smile. That evening there was a private celebration at the Aquila villa; a feast that found the household slaves dining as finely, as did the host, and his guests of honor: Marcus and Esca.

Marcus was happy to be home, and looking forward to sleeping in his own bed. For Esca, who had slept on a hard low narrow cot before their trip up north, the comfortable bedding in the room adjacent to Marcus’, was a definite upgrade. But although, the two of them were exhausted from the journey, as well as from the overwhelming welcome home, Marcus and Esca stayed up long after the household had gone to sleep. Talking and remembering.

Marcus was secretly hoping Esca would elaborate on his visit to his tribe, for he had yet to do so. All Marcus had heared was how overjoyed everyone had been to see him again, about the sparring match, the hunt, and how Esca had been fed, and given mead until he thought it might come out from his ears. But nothing more than that. 

To Marcus it was either one of two things: Esca thought Marcus would not be interested, or he thought it was none of Marcus’ business. It was Esca’s elusiveness that gripped at Marcus’ throat and filled his heart with a feeling of dread and doom. Marcus had thought Esca had begun to see him as a friend, and friends shared with each other, and it was that belief that let Marcus’ curiosity get the better of him.

“So, my friend, were there many of your tribe present that night?” And right after Marcus closed his mouth, he wished he would have stuffed his fist in it before opening it in the first place. The way Esca’s eyes shot up to meet his, and the strained thin line of his lips, had Marcus hoping he had not overstepped his boundary. Esca nodded looking up at Marcus from where he sat crossed legged on the floor. Thankfully it did not seem Esca had taken offense at the question, posed as it was, by a Roman, and for that Marcus was grateful. 

“Yes, enough of them.” And there he stopped. It was obvious to Marcus Esca did not wish to share any more than that with him. Friend or not. Marcus nodded and smiled trying to appear as though satisfied with the answer, especially since he had no other choice in the matter. 

Later that night, Marcus lay in his bed looking up at the wood beamed ceiling, dissecting the reason why, since their return from the north, Esca stole so much of his thoughts. Marcus needed to know why he had suddenly become so attached to his former slave. Of course, there was the fact that Esca was his only friend, and the perilous journey up north, and back, would have formed a bond between them, but this was more than that. There was a kind of neediness Marcus had developed toward Esca, and he was not pleased in the least. 

It was not as though he was a woman, and yet he could barely manage to be apart from Esca for more than a couple of hours at a time; a very new and uncomfortable feeling for the former co-hort Centurion, to be sure. Marcus needed to get a hold of himself. Esca was a free man now. Free to come and go as he pleased, whenever and wherever, he pleased. Were Esca to decide to leave and return to his tribe, there would not be anything Marcus could do, but wish him well. But would Marcus be able to be that gracious when the time came? The thought alone prompted a sleepless night spent pacing the floor of his room. Marcus needed an answer and he would not submit to sleep until he had it!

The following morning’s sun found Marcus sitting at the edge of Uncle Aquila’s wooden dock, where a small boat waited moored to a post. The answer he had been searching for had finally come to him in the early hours of the morning: he was in love with Esca. 

Now, what he did not have an answer for was when, where, or how, he had allowed himself to fall in love with the wiry Brigantes. But in reality, Marcus would probably never know. What he did know, was that his love for Esca seemed so very embedded deep within his soul, that there was nothing he could do to either erase, or pry it out of where it had settled. Marcus shook his head wondering how something like that had happened at all. 

After all, Marcus had never had the slightest inkling toward his own sex. He had never been interested in fucking the young male slaves available to him while still at home, or as an officer. Even as a legionnaire Marcus had preferred relieving himself with his own hand, rather than turn to a comrade, although he knew of many others who did. Now here he was… in love with his friend. 

Dishonoring him. A shame Esca did not deserve.

Esca was a man’s man. Marcus even doubted Esca had ever relieved himself with another man as was evident during their journey back from the Wall when the two of them had finally spoken as friends. They had talked of women they had loved, tigresses they had lain with, who’s expertise was such, the memory alone was enough to make them come, but never about lying with men.  
Of course, Marcus could breach the subject, delicately, for curiosities sake, but what purpose would it serve? What if Esca became suspicious, because of it, and decided to leave all the more faster? No, Marcus could not do that. He would not do that. He would hide his feelings for Esca: his love, his desire and Esca would never be the wiser.

“Marcus,” Esca’s melodic voice floated toward him as he reached his former master, “Since when have you been sitting here, my friend?” Esca asked worried, “Is your leg bothering you again?”

Marcus nodded his head and lied; after all, it was not as though Esca could read his mind. “Yes, my leg… the journey, I am certain. I am going to ask Uncle to have Galerius summoned. He finds himself again in Calleva .”

“Never mind that.” Esca, who had crouched beside Marcus, stood up, arms crossed, brow furroughed, “I will go to Calleva this morning and visit an herbalist, I have heard of something that might help soothe the muscle and bring you relief.” Esca turned and disappeared into the villa. 

There was a part of Marcus that was glad Esca would be gone a good part of the day. It would be for the best if from now on their time together were limited. The less time they spent together the better. It might help Marcus rid himself of his need for Esca if he slowly weaned himself of constantly having to be in his friend’s proximity. 

When Esca returned with the balm, he rubbed it into Marcus thigh, with an added prayer to one of his gods for his friend to be free of pain. Looking down at the top of Esca’s fair head as the warrior knelt before Marcus, brought back to his mind a specific memory. When they had been running from the Seal warriors, Marcus had dismounted his mare for a moment’s rest, and Esca, ever vigilant, had noticed how blood was oozing from the reopened wound on his master’s thigh. Esca had torn a piece of material from his own cloak and wrapped it around Marcus’ thigh to help stop the bleeding and keep it dry. 

At that time Marcus had looked down at his slave’s lowered head, and asked about what the Seal Chieftain had said to him during the struggle in the cave that ended the man’s life. Now, Marcus sat looking down at his friend’s lowered head, thinking about how very much he loved him, and how he could ever bring himself to reveal his feelings toward Esca, to Esca. There was no way Marcus could do that unless he wanted to jeopardize their friendship, and Marcus’ feelings were not important enough to risk such a loss.

There was also a part of Marcus, the shameful part of Marcus, that wanted Esca’s hands to wander higher up on his thigh until he was at the place that ached for Esca’s attention. Marcus wanted Esca to look and marvel at the length of his cock. To kiss its head and lick its length. Marcus wanted Esca to stroke it hard, rough, and then take it into his mouth to the root. Marcus wanted…

“There.” Esca tied the ends of a piece of material he had wrapped around Marcus’s thigh to help the balm introduce itself into the skin. “It should feel better soon. The medicine woman told me it is what she uses when her bones hurt.” 

Marcus shook himself back into the reality of the moment, “Thank you, Esca. I think I am going to take a short nap. That massage has relaxed my leg and made my eyes feel heavy with sleep.”

“I am glad to hear that, my friend.” Esca closed the jar and placed it on the table near Marcus’ bed. “Very well, I will go look after the horses. Perhaps when you awaken, if your leg is better, we can go for a ride.”

Marcus nodded, and as he watched his friend close the door behind him, Marcus felt his heart swell with love and then break at the thought that had kept him awake the night before: that Esca would never be his. No matter the gods he prayed to, nor how very much he wished it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to thank those of you who have taken the time to read this chapter. Time is the greatest gift one human being can give another, and I am most grateful.


	3. Chapter Three

The weeks following Marcus and Esca’s return to Calleva had been filled with visits from dignitaries, friends, opportunity seekers, and the curious. The two heroes barely had more than a couple of hours a day to say more than a few words to each other, and in truth, Marcus was feeling lonely.

Marcus missed the late-night conversations and morning chats that helped while away the hours until recently, when all he found himself doing was entertaining guests with the tale of his and Esca’s journey to and from the northern wilds. Esca, however was afforded greater luxury, especially since the Romans wanted to hear the account from Marcus, not from Esca despite his pivotal role in the drama.

There was something else.

As of late, Esca would use the opportunities when Marcus was occupying his time playing the bard, to disappear; even upon his return, he never spoke of where he had gone, or why. It was a mystery, and one that had Marcus feeling uncomfortable and uneasy. But the fact Esca always returned was a consolation of sorts, or it should have been, anyway. It was the veil of secrecy Esca buried himself under that bothered Marcus more than anything, but unless Esca broached the subject, it was impossible for Marcus to do so.

One night, as Marcus lay on his bed, one arm pillowing his head, and the other crossed over his eyes, a thought came to him: Perhaps Esca is visiting a girl in town. Marcus sat up for that was not a thought he welcomed, but the possibility behind it was nothing he could deny. Marcus shook his head certain he had uncovered the key to the mystery of Esca’s disappearances. A woman. It had to be.

Unable to sleep, Marcus had left his room and walked over to the stables where the horses were either resting, or quietly spying his every move. Marcus made his way over to Vipsania, the black mare that had been given to him as a gift of appreciation from the garrison at Isca Dumnoniorum, where he had served as commander until the injury. “Sometimes I find myself wishing we were still on our way home, girl, just having passed the Wall, no one around, as far from civilization as we could possibly be.” Marcus patted Vipsania’s mane affectionately and smiled. “Apologies, girl, I should not have awakened you. Rest. Go.” Vipsania shook her head, as though she understood Marcus’ command, and walked back to the corner of the stall.

“Marcus?”

Marcus jumped at the sound of Esca’s voice. 

“What are you doing out here, my friend?” Esca entered the stable and drew close to Marcus sneaking a quick peak at Vipsania. “Are you finding the company of horses preferable to mine of late?” He laughed softly. Esca’s eyes sparkled as they raised up to meet Marcus’.

Marcus had to look away quickly before he lingered. “I can say that about many I have come across these past few weeks, but you are not among them, my friend.”

“Then why are you out here? And this is not the first time I have found you here of late, Marcus. You seem restless, confined… as though there is a great weight on your shoulders… am I right, my friend?”

Suddenly Marcus found himself getting angry at Esca’s intrusive questioning. It seemed to Marcus like Esca thought himself with the right to pry into Marcus inner most, but Esca was not willing to offer Marcus the same courtesy when it came to himself. It was irksome.

Marcus looked at Esca as though he did not know what Esca was talking about and shook his head. “I have not been able to adjust my sleep since our journey. I expect a full night’s sleep will come in time, but for now… I do not mind keeping the horses company if everyone else is asleep.”

“But I was not asleep, and had you bothered to come into my room you would have known that.”

Marcus could hear the snap in Esca’s voice. He was bothered that Marcus had not sought him out, but at that moment, Marcus could not care less. Marcus had spent weeks bothered about Esca’s incessant secrecy, so it was more than just if Esca suddenly found himself bothered over Marcus’.

Marcus did not address Esca’s comment. He nodded once and walked passed him and out of the stable toward the villa. A silent Esca stood where he was looking at Marcus’ retreating figure, but he was not about to leave things as they were.

As Marcus reached his room, he felt an arm grab his forearm and turn him around. “Is something the matter, Marcus?” A fuming Marcus stood wide eyed looking from Esca’s face to Esca’s hand wrapped around his arm, holding him in place. “If I am the reason, I would know that now.”

Marcus had had enough, and both his pride, and his jealousy collided and joined forces. “I can ask you the very same, my friend… yet… were I to do so, you will either not feel compelled to answer me, or you will offer me half an answer which I have no other choice but to accept because it comes from you.”

Noting the truth in Marcus’ words Esca backed away releasing Marcus’ arm. There was no way Esca could share anything with Marcus, no matter how much he wished he could. Marcus could only help to confuse Esca more, and might prove more of a hindrance than a help, and Esca was not willing to take that chance.

Esca had no other choice but to offer Marcus a well-deserved apology, especially because Esca was not blind to the effect this newfound secrecy of his was having on his friend. Not that Esca had ever been an open scroll, making Marcus privy to everything that had ever happened in his life, or every thought that crossed his mind. There were secrets Esca was unwilling to revisit alone, never mind sharing them with another, no matter how dear that other might be to him. “I bid you a good night, Marcus.”

Marcus nodded, entered his room, and closed the door behind him.

Marcus was angry, angry because he felt Esca did not trust him. 

The last thing Esca would have ever wanted was for Marcus to think Esca did not trust him, but things as they stood offered him no other choice. Esca entered his room and closed the door behind him.

@@@@@@@@@@

 

The following day Marcus sat playing a lazy game of latrunculi with Uncle Aquila on the veranda enjoying an early spring breeze. 

“I have been meaning to ask you something, Marcus.” 

Marcus looked up at his uncle as he moved one of his black stones to block Uncle Aquila’s white stones. 

Uncle Aquila smiled. “Good move, my boy.”

“What have you been meaning to ask me, Uncle?”

“Ah… yes…,” Uncle Aquila hesitated briefly before continuing. “I was wondering if you know where Esca steals off to, my boy?” And Marcus immediately noted how Uncle Aquila’s “question” did not sound like a question, at all. It was more like Uncle Aquila knew the answer, and thought Marcus did as well, and was curious to hear what Marcus thought about it?

Marcus did not like lying, especially not to his uncle, but his pride did not allow him to have his uncle think Esca did not trust him enough to confide in him.

“What about it, Uncle?” There. That was a good answer: a neutral answer. Marcus did not lose face with that answer, nor did he lie to his uncle.

“I do not wish to interfere with what you boys do with the sesterces you both earned at the near cost of your lives, but… if Esca is in such dire need of a woman, why does he not just look for one to marry, instead of visiting the brothels? Soon he will lose his earnings to the whores in Calleva.”

Marcus was caught off guard, but hid it as best he could. He thought there had been a woman involved in Esca’s disappearances, but not an army of women. 

In truth, Marcus was not surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

Marcus knew Esca loved women, and that was the main reason Marcus would never divulge his feelings for Esca, to Esca; or to any one else for that matter. If Esca had not yet thought of leaving  
Marcus, that confession would send him flying far. And although Marcus knew there was a chance Esca might yet leave, he did not wish to be what prompted Esca’s departure.

“The money is Esca’s, uncle, to do with it as he pleases. If buying the whores of Calleva is how he wishes to spend it.” Marcus moved another white stone into Uncle Aquila’s camp. 

Uncle Aquila nodded for he agreed with Marcus. What he did not agree with was the wasting of time behind the lifestyle Esca had chosen, although it was not his business. “There are more than a good number of women, free women mind you, that would not shun a union with a young man as handsome and respected as Esca, Marcus. And I am not referring to daughters of freedman, only,  
Marcus… why, Magistrate Lucius Ultimus confided how Esca caught the eye of his daughter, and even Senator Gaius Fulvius Strabo inquired just the other day about Esca for his niece.”

“You do know, uncle, that Esca would marry a Roman woman as quick as I would marry a German one. Never!”

“No, I did not know that, but I will keep it in mind.” Uncle Aquila laughed. “Either way, my boy, as his friend… advise him. It may be Esca needs to move on with his life. He may be bored here, Marcus, wishing to leave but not knowing how to broach the subject with you.”

Marcus had not thought of that possibility.

Esca had changed a bit since his visit to his camp that night in Eburacum.

The secrecy had begun then.

Yes, there was every possibility Uncle Aquila was right. There was every possibility Esca wished to leave and was wondering how to tell Marcus, because of the oath he had sworn. But that oath had been sworn when Esca was still a slave, and he had since fulfilled it many times over. Besides… Marcus did not believe Esca would shy away from telling him if leaving was what he wished to do. It was not as though their friendship had been built on hypocrisy, but he had changed a lot. Today, Marcus could not be sure of anything concerning Esca; not any longer. 

“I am curious, Uncle… how did you come upon this information?”

“During his daily visits to town, Marcipor has either seen Esca enter, or exit the brothel, on numerous occasions, and has informed me.”

“In truth, it is none of Marcipor’s business, and since Esca is no longer a slave here, Marcipor need not keep you informed of Esca’s coming and goings.”

There was more, much more to Esca visiting the brothels in Calleva. Was he in need of a woman? Marcus did not doubt it for it had been quite a while. According to Esca he had not fucked a woman since his slavery. But Marcus suspected more he just could not put his finger on what it was.

And the conversation ended there.

@@@@@@@@@@@

 

That night, noting Esca was not in his room, and had not been present at cena, Marcus entered Esca’s room and looked around. He examined a few of the small wooden animals Esca had carved and placed on the small table by his bed. 

Marcus lifted the tunic Esca had left at the edge of his bed, and raised it to his face. It smelled like Esca. Like pine and clean river water. Marcus whispered Esca’s name.

“Did you say something, Marcus?”

Marcus turned to see Esca entering his bed chamber. He looked at the tunic Marcus was still holding, recognizing it as his own, and smiled.

“I do not think you will find that a comfortable fit, my friend.”

Esca drew nearer to Marcus and Marcus had to steady himself. Esca’s presence was overpowering. He seemed like a lion on the prowl, scrutinizing its prey, drawing closer for its eventual attack. Marcus found himself taking a few steps back until he felt the edge of Esca’s bed behind him.

“Were you missing my company, Marcus?”

Marcus moved away as quickly as he could and headed toward the door. “I thought I heard something in your room, but… now that you are here… I bid you a good night, Esca.”

And he disappeared past the open double doors.

Once again Esca stood in the center of his room looking at the shadow cast by Marcus’ retreating figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much to those of you who take time to read this chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and do not consider it a waste of your time. Your time is valuable, and I treasure it, and am so very grateful that you have blessed my work with some of it. I also thank you for your comments and/or kudos. Thank you, thank you, thank you again.


	4. Chapter Four

“Esca.” the young girl on the bed called out as the fair-haired Brigantes warrior neared the wooden door that divided the small candle lit room from the narrow corridor directly outside. “Must you leave? I always feel so protected when you’re here with us.” The young girl, no more than 15 or 16 years old, lay on a low narrow bed holding a sleeping newborn in her arms.

“You know I must go, Ariane. You also know I would never leave you completely alone.” Esca walked back to the girl and took her outstretched hand in his. “Nola will be here shortly.”  
Ariane nodded for it was true. Since becoming her protector, Esca had never left her side without leaving Nola in his place. Nola was a Carvetti woman who had been taught the medicinal arts by her former master; a Roman who had captured her during a raid, fell in love with her, and made her his wife. Nola was a kindly woman who refused to take payment for treating the poor in need of her services; such as the women and men of the brothel.

Ariane, on the other hand, was a camp follower who fell in love with a Roman soldier. Recognizing her love sickness toward him, the soldier sold her to the Calleva brothel to pay a gambling debt he could not afford to satisfy otherwise. Ariane believed the child she now cradled in her arms, a son she named Titus, belonged to the soldier, but it was just as possible it belonged to any of the men who had lain with her since her arrival at the brothel.

Ariane came into Esca’s line of sight when he was asked to meet one of his own at the brothel to continue a conversation begun, and left unfinished, in Eburacum. The girl had gone into labor while servicing a patron, and the screams had brought Esca to her defense. Sympathy and compassion for the girl’s plight, found Esca making daily visits to the brothel, and it was that daily routine that had been spied by Marcipor and reported to Uncle Aquila.

What Marcipor did not know, was not only that Esca’s visits to the brothel were not what he imagined, but that Esca had purchased Ariane and was planning on manumitting her the moment she was strong enough to leave. Nola had agreed to allow Ariane to live in her home, with her babe, for a short period of time, and in return Ariane would help manage Nola’s household. The Roman who had made Nola his wife, had died a few years earlier, and since then Nola had needed help in the management of the home he had left her. Especially since most of her days were spent caring for Calleva’s sick.

But the plan Esca had made for Ariane and her son, were known only to Esca, Ariane, and Nola, and no one else.

Esca had many times considered telling Marcus about Ariane, but he did not know how the Roman would react to Esca using the sesterces Marcus had given him to spend on a stranger. In truth, Esca did not think Marcus would have objected outright; after all, Marcus had told Esca that he was free to do whatever he wished with the money Marcus gave him from the return of the eagle. But a small and nagging doubt kept Esca silent.

“Will you still visit us when Titus and I go to live in Nola’s villa, Esca?”

“Why would I stop? If I visit you here, what makes you think I would not visit you there? Have no worries, Ariane… I shall continue to visit you, and Titus, even if I cannot do so every day as I do now.”

Some of those words warmed Ariane’s heart for she did not wish Esca to stop his daily visits to her. She had become accustomed to them, and to him. There were times Ariane found herself wishing the babe was Esca’s instead of the Roman who had defrauded her. Almost without knowing, Esca had replaced thoughts of the soldier from Ariane’s mind, and replaced them with thoughts of himself. Not only was the Brigantes handsome, but he was kind and his heart was of pure gold. 

Esca was also one of her own, for even if they were not of the same tribe, the same blood flowed through their veins. The blood of the Celts. They spoke the same language, prayed to the same gods, and held true to the same culture. 

What Ariane did not like about what Esca had just said, was his not visiting her everyday as he did now.

Ariane was not ignorant to the reason: Marcus Flavius Aquila. 

Esca spoke of Marcus constantly. There had never been a visit where Marcus’ name had not been brought up by Esca. There was true and deep affection for the man there, and although it had not bothered Ariane at the beginning, as of late it had begun to make her skin crawl. When Esca would mention Marcus’ name, Ariane would feel anger rising from deep within. But she never let it show. Ariane would make sure to smile and offer compliments at whatever Esca was saying about his Roman friend, but it was becoming more and more difficult and Ariane was afraid she would lose her composure at some point.

Ariane needed to find a way to get Esca away from Marcus. To tear them apart, but… how?

Esca was devoted to his friend. Marcus had saved Esca from death at the hands of a gladiator in the arena not far from the brothel. Yes, Marcus had selfishly taken Esca, then his slave, to the wilds of Caledonia, not taking into consideration what it was he was asking Esca to do: betray his own kind for Marcus’ benefit. But then… while fleeing from the Seal People’s warriors, seeing the situation hopeless, Marcus had freed Esca and told Esca to leave so that he would not die along with Marcus.

It was things like that that had formed a bond between them that Ariane did not know how to break. She was sure she could find a way, but she was going to have to give it some serious thought. 

But in the end, Ariane had no doubts… Esca would be hers.

@@@@@@@@@@

Marcus continued to be bothered with Esca’s constant disappearances, especially now that he knew where Esca disappeared to. But what Marcus did not understand was why Esca did not share the stories of his visits to the brothel with Marcus? Those were things men talked about; especially friends. They had spoken about their sexual conquests on the journey back from the North, and Esca had been very open then; so why not now? No. There had to be another reason why Esca was so private about it and Marcus could only think of one: a woman.

There could be no other explanation and Marcus was sure that was the only one.

Esca had met a girl at the brothel. A girl he had taken a liking to, and Marcus was green with envy.

Marcus could not help but hate who ever it was that had lit Esca’s interest in a way he never could. There was a moment Marcus found himself wishing he had been born a woman. But then he quickly shook off the thought, for had Marcus been born a woman, he would have been born a Roman woman and Esca would have hated him. 

Marcus’ curiosity was getting the better of him and he did not know what to do to stop it.

“Salve, my friend.” Esca’s greeting startled Marcus who until then had been lost in thought.

“Salve, my friend. Where have you been today?” Marcus asked not expecting an answer, after all, it was not as though any of his previous inquiries as to Esca’s whereabouts had been answered.

And this time would be no different.

“In town.”

Unlike previous times, this time Esca elaborated more on what he had been doing in town. “An Iceni trader came to town and since they have the best horses.”

“Ah… good thinking, my friend. Are his prices agreeable, or outrageous?”

Noting how Marcus was staring at his eyes as though he were trying to read the truth in them, Esca turned his gaze toward the newly cleaned impluvium. Esca did not like lying to Marcus. He had only lied to him once: when he had purposely hidden the fact of his knowledge concerning the ‘Place of Heroes,’ where the Ninth legion met their fate and the Eagle was lost.

“They are as one would expect for horses of Iceni stock, my friend.”

Marcus could feel his blood boil within his veins, but he kept his outward composure in place. “Very well. If you are content with the price, then I am as well.” 

Needing to get away from Esca and the obvious lie that hung between them, Marcus made an excuse about needing to speak to his uncle about some matter, or another, and left Esca standing alone in the atrium.

When he reached the narrow hallway outside his uncle’s study, a fuming Marcus stopped and hit his fist against the wall a couple of times. “LIAR! LIAR!”

Esca was making a fool of him for what reason only the gods knew. Had Esca taken a liking to a girl, no matter who she was, or what she did, it would not have mattered to Marcus. Or… at least… it should not have mattered to Marcus, but in truth… it mattered a great deal for Marcus was in love with Esca.

Deeply in love.

In love as he had never been in love before.

“I am going to put an end to this farce of yours, Esca. I want to see your face when you see mine where you least expected to see it. But I will no longer be made a fool of.”

Marcus wanted an end to the mystery. The uncertainty. The game Esca was playing.

Would it hurt him? Yes, it would. It would break his heart, but better to know, and live with a broken heart, than to live enveloped in a fog of doubt.

He would know before the day was out.

@@@@@@@@@@

Marcus entered the brothel looking around not knowing what to do now that he was there. How was he supposed to find this girl he suspected Esca was involved with? He could not just go up to someone and ask, or could he?

Marcus made his way to the woman who owned and operated the brothel; a Bithynian woman called Marmara. The woman offered Marcus a pick of her most choice stock either boys or girls. 

“Mine is of a more particular taste. A friend of mine, a loyal client of yours, tells me his girl is a master at her craft.”

The woman cocked her head. “And who is this friend of yours, young master? I may then be able to tell you who his favorite is.”

“He is a Briton. Small in stature, fair…”

Marmara snapped her fingers and smiled. “Say no more, young master. You speak of Esca the Brigantes. Ah, yes, he speaks of Ariane.”

Marcus felt lightheaded at the mention of the girl’s name. He had been right. Esca had a girl he came to visit.

“Oh, but, forgive me, young master, and I am surprised he has not told you, but Ariane no longer works for me.”

Marcus mustered the strength he had learned to mine since his father had disgraced the family by losing the Eagle and the five thousand men under his command.

“What do you mean, woman? Speak plainly!”

The woman raised her head and rested her fists on her rounded waist. “Your friend, this Esca, has bought Ariane from me. She is his property now, so… if you wish to lie with her, ask him. I am certain he will oblige a friend.” 

And then the woman laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest reader, I wish to thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this work. I appreciate it more than words can say. I also wish to thank those of you who bless me with your comments, feedback, and/or kudos. All three are gifts I do NOT take lightly, and for which I am most grateful. Thank you again and always.
> 
> Eli


	5. Chapter Five

If you were to have asked Marcus how he made it back to the villa, from visiting the brothel, he would not have been able to tell you, for he had returned blind. Blind with fury. Blind with rage. Blind with envy. Blind.

Marmara’s words had hit Marcus as no words before, except for those of the Legate’s private secretary, Servius Placidus, when he had made light of Marcus’ father’s fate while a guest at the Aquila villa: “The loss of the Ninth was humiliating enough, without adding another pointless death.”  
Placidus’ words had fueled Marcus’ anger and prompted him to disregard a more rational course of action, for a less rational one. Although that irrationality would serve to immortalize the Flavia name, in all its honor and glory, for all time, where the Servia would perish and be forgotten upon the death of its last surviving son or daughter.

Esca had lied. Esca had betrayed Marcus, yet again. 

Marcus had understood the necessity in that first betrayal, if Marcus chose not to consider Esca’s concealing the fact he had known in who’s hands the lost Eagle lay, a betrayal, as well. But there Marcus had chosen to accuse Esca of lying, although there is little difference between the two: a lie and a betrayal. They are both two sides of the same coin.

Nevertheless, Marcus had understood Esca’s pretence at the Seal Camp as a necessary action to save their lives, or at least… Marcus’ life. Marcus did not believe Esca would have been killed along with him, for not only did the Chieftain regard Cunoval highly, but they would have seen Esca as a victim of the Romans. But Marcus’ life would have been forfeit and he had Esca to thank that it had not been.

But… to lie about his reasons for visiting the brothel, the girl, and his purchase of her, that, Marcus could not understand.

Marcus entered his room slamming the wooden doors behind him, hoping the noise did not call his uncle’s attention. Stephanos had said something about Uncle Aquila being in his study working on his histories, as Marcus had stormed past. The last thing Marcus needed was to have to explain his obvious anger to his uncle, for it was not his business, nor was it anyone elses’ for that matter.

Marcus went to the kitchen and brought back an amphora of wine to his room. He needed to calm the rage within, and unable to speak to anyone about its cause, he knew of no other way than to seek an escape aside from a drunken stupor. The wine did not erase the cause of Marcus’ anger, nor Marmara’s words, nor Esca’s lies, but it did help to make him laugh at the slightest of things. A ripple in the pool water in the garden outside his room, a large puffy blue cloud floating past in the night sky that reminded him of Legate Claudius, the branch of a tree that reminded him of the staff a centurion he once knew, use to carry.

“Are you well, Marcus?”

Marcus struggled to raise his head and meet his uncle’s eyes, but did so with a wide happy grin. “Better than ever, Uncle. And you?”

“Oh, I am quite well. Your laughter has caused quite a stir in the house this evening. The slaves think you drunk.”

Marcus burst out laughing. “Me? Drunk? And why would I be drunk, Uncle?”

“I do not know, but if you partook of every drop of wine in that amphora you took from the kitchen… I believe you may be very drunk indeed, my boy. The question is… why?” Over-drinking was not a vice Marcus entertained. There was a bit of the stoic in him. He did everything in moderation, therefore, yes, finding Marcus in a drunken stupor was food for thought.  
Marcus struggled to rise to his feet from the edge of his bed, where he had been sitting drinking cup after cup of wine. “I am celebrating, Uncle.”

“Are you, my boy?” Uncle Aquila crossed his arms over his chest and walked further into Marcus’ room. “Celebrating what? And why was I not invited to this celebration?” Uncle Aquila was about to ask Marcus the reason Esca was also absent to the celebration, but something stopped him before he did. A feeling. Something was wrong. There was discord between his nephew and the Briton, but Uncle Aquila would not venture to ask what had caused it. Marcus was an intently private person, and Uncle Aquila would not disrespect his nephew’s privacy for want of gossip.

“Stephanos, good man he is, told me you were in your study working on your histories, Uncle. Besides… I did not think you would enjoy it.”

“Bah, I live for celebrations, or any kind of merrymaking, my boy. It is not as though my life is filled with such excitement that I would shun a little more of it. Now, tell me… what are you celebrating?”

Marcus opened his mouth, and for a moment it seemed to Uncle Aquila that he was about to speak, but then he laughed and shook his head. “I have had enough of celebrating for one day, Uncle. Hypnos is calling out to me,” Marcus cupped his ear as if trying to listen to the god’s call, “do you hear him, uncle? No, well, I do, and I must answer his call.” Marcus’ eyes were half lidded, although Uncle Aquila suspected a bit of exaggeration on Marcus’ part, but he could tell the moment Marcus’ head hit the pillow, he would fall to sleep.

“Very well, my boy. May you have a good night’s rest. I will see you in the morning.” Uncle Aquila turned to leave but stopped abruptly. “Marcus, do not forget our lunch invitation tomorrow.”

“What lunch invitation tomorrow, Uncle?”

“Have you forgotten already? We have been invited to lunch at the home of Senator Gaius Marcellus. You were most excited about it when I told you.”

“Was I? Why?”

“I would not know that, Marcus. Either you were genuinely excited, or you pretended to be excited for my sake, which in turn I do appreciate. Whatever the reason, we cannot decline, therefore, I expect you to be awake, alert, and free of the stench of wine, at least an hour before midday.”

Marcus chuckled and nodded his answer. Uncle Aquila exited the room closing the door behind him.

“Gods!” Marcus threw his empty cup against the floor. He did not wish to lunch at the Senator’s house, nor did he wish to be awake when Esca finally came home. Although, were both to be placed on a scale, the lunch would be something Marcus could deal with and it would make his uncle happy. But facing Esca was not something Marcus was prepared to do. An excellent solution to Marcus’ dilemma would be if Esca decided not to ever come home, again. That way, Marcus would not have to face him, since that was something Marcus was not prepared to do now, or perhaps ever. 

Marcus had just closed his eyes when Esca opened the door and entered the room. 

“Marcus! Marcus! MARCUS!” Esca called out with such authority Marcus was forced to give up his pretense of sleep and turn to face him. “Why have you been avoiding me this day? I would know the reason here and now, or I shall not leave this room until the truth is offered.”

Marcus’ eyes narrowed with dark anger. “How dare you demand things of me that you are not willing to give.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know well what I am talking about, Esca. Do NOT play the innocent.”

Esca’s eyes, although fixed on Marcus’ angry stare, softened from their previous stony glare. “Forgive me, my friend, you speak truth. I have been keeping something from you. I have been inexplicably aloof, and I must beg your forgiveness, my friend.”

“I would know why since we are friends… if you deem me as such.”

“Of course, you are my friend, Marcus. You know that…”

Marcus angrily interrupted Esca for Esca’s actions had not come from someone who deemed another as a friend, but more as an acquaintance. An acquaintance where trust is minimal, if it exists at all.

Esca shook his head. “You are my dearest friend, Marcus. You have no idea what you are to me.”

“Whatever I may be to you, friend, brother… I am nowhere half as dear to you as the whomever you visit daily at the brothel.”

Esca’s eyes widened, and for a moment he was speechless.

“Aha… you did not think I knew, did you?”

“How did you come about this information?” A vexed Esca glared at Marcus with darkened eyes. “Have you been spying on me?”

Marcus had not been spying on Esca, and he would not have him thinking he had been, so he offered the truth; that it was Marcipor who had seen him entering the brothel on numerous occasions.

“Then my secret is no longer a secret, my friend. Yes, Marcipor was right. I have been visiting the brothel because of a girl, but a girl who means nothing to me.”

“If she means nothing to you, why would you visit her daily, and spend coin on her?” Marcus nodded as Esca’s eyes questioned his words. “Marmara, the owner, told me you bought the girl from her and that she is your favorite.”

Marcus caught himself too late.

“Ah… then Marcipor was not the only spy, you too have been investigating my whereabouts. You had no right going to the brothel to inquire about me.”

Unable to control himself any longer, Marcus jumped from his bed and grabbed Esca by the arms and drew him close. 

“I have every right!” Marcus sneered. “You belong to me and I shall not share you with anyone.”

Esca felt himself melt at the tone of Marcus’ voice. Long had he waited to hear the Roman say those words; claiming him as his own.

Marcus buried his face in Esca’s neck, inhaled the fresh scent of his hair, and brushed his cheek against the stubble on the Briton’s face. Marcus had never been with a man, and he wanted to feel what it was like down to the minutest detail. Esca let his head fall back no longer able to fight off the sensations that were overwhelming him and Marcus’ touch. The Roman was stealing his strength. Defeating his willpower. Esca was weak and defenseless against the man who had once been his master.

And Marcus was no different.

Esca did not have to weaken Marcus, nor steal his strength, for he had done so long ago. From the very beginning. From the very moment their eyes had met across the sands of that arena in Calleva, and although Marcus had not known for sure until recently, he knew now. He loved Esca with every fiber of his being.

Marcus was peppering Esca’s neck with kisses, as his hands explored everything he wished to discover, and claim as his own. And as he felt Esca’s hands begin their exploration of the unknown territory that was Marcus’ quivering body, Marcus felt his knees go weak.

“I best lie down, or I fear I shall fall down.”

Esca smirked, “And I do not wish to take you on the floor, my love, unless that is what you wish?” And just as quickly as the words escaped Esca’s mouth, the two of them backed slightly away from each other.

Marcus did not know how to answer what Esca had just said: he did not wish to claim Marcus anywhere other than on the bed, but… Marcus was a Roman, and Roman men did not allow themselves to be claimed by anyone. 

Esca froze wondering what Marcus thought of what he had said. Would Marcus allow Esca to take him? To have him? To claim his body as his own? 

And then…

“I would have it no other way, my Esca.”

They fell into Marcus’ bed together. Esca beneath Marcus until he shifted and brought Marcus under. Esca was hungry. Hungry for Marcus, as Marcus was hungry for him. They kissed feverishly, deeply, exploring each other’s mouths with desperation. They stared into each other’s eyes smoldering with vented passion. They gasped and moaned their desires in unison, and Marcus was certain he would lose his ability to think and reason for such was the pleasure Esca gave him. 

Marcus drew Esca closer against him so that he could grind his erection against Esca’s, and Esca groaned as his eyes closed tightly. 

“I wish to taste you, my Marcus, I want to feel the weight of you on my tongue.”

Marcus almost came at Esca’s words, but Esca lifted himself off Marcus and slid down the length of his body, licking the taut olive skin as he traveled toward his desired destination. Once there, Esca kissed Marcus’ thick shaft, licked its pink head, and dipped the tip of his tongue into its slit. Marcus could barely control himself. And then, suddenly, Esca took Marcus into his mouth and down his throat as deep as he could. So deep Marcus feared choking him for Marcus was of generous length and girth.

But Esca seemed to enjoy working Marcus’ manhood and Marcus could not get enough. 

Marcus moaned as he tangled his fingers in Esca’s hair and caressed his bobbing head, and then from out of nowhere, Esca’s voice rang loud throughout the room, as though he were standing over him and not on his knees working his manhood.

“Marcus!” Esca called out.

“Shssssh, my love. We do not wish to awaken my uncle or have Stephanos walk in on us.” Marcus laughed shakily as he continued thrusting his hips up and his manhood further into Esca’s welcoming mouth.

“Marcus... wake up!”

Startled, Marcus’ eyes flew open and he faced Esca who stood, not naked as he had been seconds before, but fully dressed and glaring down at Marcus. 

"What is the meaning of this intrusion to my sleep, Esca?" Marcus demanded, although he was still uncertain as to whether he had been asleep, or awake all along. Of course, Esca's appearance proved the former.

“I would have words with you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again and always, dear friends, for taking the time to read this work. Dearest hearts, you have no idea what that means to me, as do your comments, feedback, and/or kudos. Those are treasures I appreciate and do not take lightly. I am forever grateful. I do hope you continue to enjoy the story, and that at no time, does it become a disappointment.  
> Thank you again and always, dearest hearts.  
> Eli


	6. Chapter Six

Marcus shot up from his bed looking frantically about the room. 

“Esca! ESCA!”

Esca had been there. He had just been in Marcus’ room. Marcus had seen him; he’d been awakened by him. And then Marcus remembered the dream “Esca” had awakened him from and the blood rushed to his face. Marcus covered his reddened face with his hands.

"Mithras help me."

Had Esca seen what Marcus must have been doing? Had he heard Marcus moaning his name? And if he had… had he felt offended by it? Had Marcus been a woman, he doubted Esca would have been offended, but Marcus was NOT a woman. He was a man. A Roman man to boot. Yes, Esca must have heard and ran off offended, hurt, feeling betrayed by the man he thought his friend.

Marcus had to think of something quick. But what? 

If Esca had indeed heard his name being gasped in what left little to the imagination, there was nothing Marcus could say to deflect. Marcus hit his forehead several times with the ball of his right hand.

“Stupid! Stupid! You are stupid Marcus Flavius Aquila! Now look at what you have done.”

Marcus did not know what to say to Esca, or how to say it, when they came face-to-face, but he could not let it sit the night. Marcus quickly threw open the double doors and ran out into the lamp-lit corridor that led from one end of the villa to the other. The doors to Esca’s room was adjacent to Marcus’ room, and so Marcus knocked quietly, and then entered the darkened room. It was immediately visible that Esca was not in his bed, nor in his room. Even the lamps had not been lit, therefore, Esca could not have come from his room to awaken Marcus.

Marcus closed the doors behind him, took an oil lamp from a small table that stood between his and Esca’s room, and proceeded to look for the wiry Celt throughout the villa and in the gardens. The night chill made Marcus shiver as he looked about the garden but found nothing. Esca was nowhere to be found.  
But Marcus had not heard horse hoofs galloping off into the distance at any point after awakening, and he would have. Esca would have stabled his horse after getting home, and after having heard Marcus humiliating him, as well as himself, Esca would have had to run to the stables, mounted his horse, and galloped off. Therefore, and there was both relief and anxiety in the observation, it had all been a dream.

BUT WAIT!

What if Esca had been so offended that he had abandoned his horse and ran away on his own? Marcus made his way to the stables. Upon entering he could see the stall Esca’s horse, Aiden, occupied was empty. So, Esca had not been home at all and he had not run away. Marcus returned to the villa and to his room but not to his bed. He felt uneasy. Worried.

Of course, he was no longer worried about whether Esca had witnessed his humiliation, but about what Esca was up to, where he was, and worst of all… with who? The last question he already had an answer to: Ariane. In fact, he already had an answer to both questions.

Marcus paced to and fro within the confines of his room searching for an answer. His answer. An answer to the question about what he should do with his life. There had to be something Marcus could fill his days with rather than sitting in his uncle’s villa playing games and worrying endlessly about what another grown man was doing with his life. 

He would come up with an answer. He had to. There was no other choice. Anything, any answer, was preferable to Marcus’ present existence which revolved solely around Esca, his doings, and his whereabouts. Esca had his own life to live. He was no longer a slave and Marcus would not have changed that only to have control over Esca’s life, even if he could. Esca had the right to live as he saw fit, be with whomever he pleased, and go wherever he wished and Marcus had no business in any of it. That was the very first thing Marcus needed to make peace with… and he would.

He had to.

He would force himself to let go. Let go of what did not belong to him in the first place.

**********

As Esca rode home from town, he thought of the things Varney had said to him during their unexpected meeting in one of Calleva’s taverns.

Varney believed Esca’s place was with his own kind, especially since he was the last surviving son of Cunoval and he was very insistent on the matter. Varney did not put any value on the oath Esca had given Marcus while his prince was still a slave. He thought at that time Esca had had no other choice; but now as a free man, Esca could no longer be held, nor hold himself, to a word given when he had no other choice but to offer his master his unwavering loyalty.

Of course, Esca had argued the point reminding Varney that as a son of Cunoval, Esca did not give his word in vain to anyone. Even if that anyone was a Roman. His having been a slave when he offered his loyalty to Marcus, the man who had saved his life, was of no account. The oath held as far as Esca was concerned.

“But surely you do not intend on binding your life to this Roman, my prince? Yes, he saved your life, but you saved his as well.”

“I swore never to abandon him and that is exactly what I shall not do.”

“And you would abandon us?”

Esca lifted eyes of fire to Varney who swallowed hard and tried his best to measure his words so that he did not overstep, as he had seemingly just done.

“My prince… your people need you. We have been too long without our chieftain; beholding to other tribes for having given us a place to live after the Romans destroyed our village. Forgive me, my prince, but many would see it as your obligation to lead those of us that are left.”

Esca’s burning glare under his furroughed brow made Varney tremble with fear, but Esca was no less shaken for he saw the truth in Varney’s words. 

“You forget yourself Varney! I am not in need of a reminder of my place nor my duty from you or anyone else!”

Varney looked over at Weylin who advised caution with his eyes. Varney looked around the almost empty room grateful that there was no more than a handful of people apart from the three of them. This was the one tavern that stayed open until after the midnight hour, and because of this it was quite popular with travelers.

“Forgive me, my prince. I spoke out of turn, but… please understand, my prince… I speak out of worry for our people. Especially our women.”

“What do you mean?”

“Many of them have been taken as wives by men of the tribes that have offered them shelter, my prince. And although they are brave and good men, these women should be marrying other Brigantes, like them, so that the children they bare grow to serve and protect our tribe and not the tribes of others as our enemies.”

Although Esca did not relay to Varney whether he agreed or disagreed, he could not deny the man spoke sense. 

Esca found himself remembering his father’s sister: Halla. Halla had been married to a man of the Selgovae, and although she had always been respected by the people of the tribe, she felt as a stranger among them. Esca remembered meeting her once, when she had traveled to Isca Brigantium with her husband and children to marry her daughter to one of Cunoval’s spears. Esca remembered how the longing to be back home had stayed visible in her eyes throughout the visit, and how once, when he had caught her crying, she had spoken to him of how very lonely she felt and how many times a woman of the tribe would inadvertently remind her that she was not one of their own.

This sad memory was the clearest one Esca had of his aunt: a sad, lonely, homesick woman who perhaps died longing for home.

“My prince? My prince?”

An unfocused Esca came back to the present, “Yes, forgive me… but I must go. It is a long ride back to the villa and it is a late enough hour as it is.”

“Yes, my prince, but… may I ask what your thoughts are on the matter?”

When angry, Esca’s angular features seemed fiercer than they did otherwise, and Varney took a few steps back from the scorching look he received from his dead Chieftain’s son. 

Esca was angry, indeed, but not with Varney.

Had he been in the man’s boots, and he came across the one man who could reunite their tribe once again and restore their rightful place as leaders of all the other tribes in Britannia, he would have done no different than what Varney had done. But Esca did not have the answer Varney wished. And the thing was… he was not certain he ever would.

Esca knew his tribespeople needed him. They needed his guidance and leadership and his protection, but… Marcus needed him as well. And he needed Marcus. He needed Marcus more than he wanted to admit to himself. Esca had fallen deeply in love with Marcus. Something he had never thought possible for Esca had never been inclined toward men, and especially not Roman men. But… there was something about Marcus.

His goodness of his heart. The pureness of his soul.

Esca had tried to thwart the fall and he thought he had won until that day at the river. When Marcus had looked up and into his eyes. Vulnerable. Helpless. It was then Esca had realized he had lost the fight, but that was another matter for another time.

For now, Esca could hide behind the oath he had sworn Marcus all he wished, but the truth of the matter was that oath had been fulfilled the moment Marcus set foot in his uncle’s villa alive and well. Esca was no longer tied to Marcus either by slavery, nor by his oath; he was free from both. If Esca remained at Marcus’ side, it was simply because he wished to do so, and there was the problem. 

Esca wished to remain at Marcus’ side forever. Yes, he had abandoned the Roman’s company those past weeks in favor of helping someone who needed him more than Marcus did at that moment, but it did not mean he no longer wished to be at Marcus’ side. Besides… Marcus had been occupied with nightly dinner parties and an endless flow of guests pouring in and out of the villa who came to see what a true Roman hero looked like and listen to his story.

Esca would be surprised if Marcus had even noticed his absence. After all, if he had he had never even approached him about it. Had it been the other way around, Esca would have demanded to know even if that demand would have led to an argument. Obviously, Marcus did not care enough to notice, or to ask. 

Perhaps Marcus was even relieved with Esca’s absence, but Esca would not allow himself to think upon that. Unrequited love always stabbed the heart.

As Esca walked out of the stables, after seeing his horse to his stall, he walked into the house and up to Marcus’ door. Esca put his ear to it and was glad he did not hear Marcus snoring which meant he was awake. Esca opened the door.

Marcus, who was sitting on the chair he had been sitting in the very first time Esca had walked into that room, looked up at Esca and smiled. “It is quite late, my friend. The sun shall awaken shortly. You may wish to sleep before it does.”

Esca smiled and entered the room. “Marcus… I wish to apologize for my absence of late, but I do have a valid reason. I…”

“You need not apologize to me, my friend.” Marcus interrupted for he was truly not interested in having Esca explain himself. Esca was a free man and what he did with that freedom was no concern of Marcus. That was what he had forced himself to accept during the hours he had sat on the chair contemplating. 

“I know I do not need to, Marcus, but I wish to. I do not want you to think I have abandoned your friendship, or that I no longer enjoy your company. I have been…”

“Esca… please… I truly do not wish to know. When I manumitted you, I did not do so with the intention of having you as my freedman, where I still need to know where you are and what you are doing. I freed you completely. I gave you the right to do with your life as you please. A right that should have never been taken from you. It is no longer my concern where you go, nor whom you are with, as what I do is of no concern to you.”

Esca was taken back by Marcus’ words, especially by what he had just said, that what he does is of no concern to Esca. And because Cunoval had raised no coward, Esca boldly demanded to know what Marcus meant.

“Very well, if you must know… since my leg has improved, and since I would not be expected to march, I have decided to return to the legions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in updating and posting this chapter, dear readers. I hope you enjoy it. I also wish to thank all of you who leave comments and/or kudos. These are gifts which are treasured and greatly appreciated. Thank you again. 
> 
> I wish you a blessed and happy weekend.  
> Eli


	7. Chapter Seven

Two weeks after everything had happened, Marcus could scarcely believe he had spun such a great lie just to send Esca away from him.

It was not what he wanted. Every god in the heavenly pantheon could attest to that, but he had had no other choice. For whatever reason Esca felt obligated to stay beside Marcus, Marcus could no longer allow it. Only a blind man would fail to see that Esca was torn between his self-imposed obligation to Marcus, and his wanting to be free of it. Esca had an obligation of some kind with the girl from the brothel. Ariane. Such an obligation he had even purchased her freedom. No one did that unless the person meant much to them.

Marcus judged the situation with rational.

His uncle cared much for old Stephanos, his body slave. Uncle Aquila had purchased the Greek slave shortly after retiring from his military career three and twenty years earlier. And even after all those years, and however dear the loyal slave had become to his uncle, Uncle Aquila had not freed him. And from what Uncle Aquila had said when Marcus told him he had decided to manumit Esca, Stephanos’ manumission would come after Uncle Aquila’s death, in the case the old slave survived his master. Marcus himself had not freed Esca until he was confronted with the dilemma of either having them both meet their death at the hands of the Seal warriors at the river, or allow one of them to live.

Marcus had chosen for Esca to live since Esca had no other choice but to follow Marcus on that fool hearted journey in the first place. It was the only honorable and fair thing to do and Marcus had chosen well. Were he to be presented again with a similar choice, Marcus would still choose Esca’s life over his own. Marcus had once again decided to let Esca go and find his own way. Perhaps he could make a life for himself and Ariane, even if Marcus spent the rest of his days envying her and wishing he could have had what she now owned.

 _“The legions?”_ A slack jawed Esca had stepped back from Marcus eyeing him as though a stranger stood before him. Esca could hardly believe what Marcus had just said, and every time Marcus remembered the look of disbelief and disappointment on Esca’s face, he cursed himself. Marcus had had to force himself to muster every bit of strength he possessed to continue with the lie, although, in truth, it was not a lie.

A few days earlier, Claudius Marcellus, Legate of the Sixth Legion, and Uncle Aquila’s old sparring partner, had visited the villa with a purpose: The Legate had a proposition for Marcus. Marcus would assume an administrative position in Alexandria with the Second Legion; what had once been Marcus’ most fervent dream to be posted in Egypt where he could continue his rise through the ranks. In a different capacity, of course. The offer was indeed bittersweet.

The only thing that had stopped Marcus from asking to be posted in Egypt once he achieved the rank of Centurion, was the opportunity to go to Britain and discover the truth about what had happened to his father.

 _“You liar! You liar!”_ Esca shook his head as he continued backing away from Marcus.

 _“Liar?_ What have _I_ lied to _you_ about?” Marcus stood up, squared his shoulders, and raised his head as had been his way when he commanded men back in the day. “I have _never_ lied to you about anything, Esca, and if I have…please enlighten me that I may clarify it with the truth.”

Esca smirked as though he would not believe Marcus no matter what he tried to _“clarify”_ with the truth. “You said your leg would never again allow you to march, and yet... you are joining the legions. I would call that a very _great_ lie; indeed, would you not agree, Marcus Flavius Aquila?”

“I agree that it may sound like a lie, but it most certainly was not meant as such. Had I not been presented with the opportunity to ride while others march, I would not have even considered it.”

Esca mocked Marcus with a burst of laughter, “ _Ride_ while others march? Centurions march along with their men do not think me an _idiot_ Marcus!”

“You are far from an idiot, but I would not join the legions as Centurion. I have been promoted…”

“Promoted? Promoted to what? General?” And again, Esca laughed a mocking laugh, but where Marcus had understood Esca’s first outburst, he was irked by the second. Did Esca think so little of him that the rank of General, no matter how elevated, was beyond Marcus’ reach?

“Yes! I have been promoted to General. Is this so strange a thing that you feel free to mock me?” Marcus knew the lie was getting out of hand, but he could not think of anything better to say. Besides, it was not all that far-fetched. After all, Marcus’ accomplishment afforded him any and all military honors.

But Esca was glad Marcus was offended by his reaction, for he felt just as offended by Marcus’ announcement. Esca felt offended because he thought Marcus had changed from the man he use to be. He had gone back to being the man that had sat across from Esca that night in the North, arrogantly demeaning the Brigantes' perception of honor; praising the glory of Rome and singing of its greatness and how its very existence was a benefit to humanity. Esca had hated Marcus at that moment, especially when he remembered his tribe, and his family’s slaughter at the hands of men who thought no different than Marcus.

The conversations the two had on the journey back from the North had Esca believing Marcus had come to terms with the fact that the thought of Rome’s greatness was not a concept unanimously believed or accept by all. Not by those oppressed and crushed by the weight of its injustice, like Esca and thousands others victimized by it. Marcus had turned his back on the senators and the Eagle, once he had restored it to Rome, or so Esca had thought.

“I do not mock you Marcus… I am surprised, but… perhaps I should not be.”

“ _What_ is your meaning?”

“You are Roman Marcus. You may take the man out of the Roman, but you will never take the Roman out of the man. I should have known better.”

Marcus walked over to a corner table where an amphora of cool wine stood waiting and poured a cup and offered to Esca who refused with a fervent shake of his head.

“It is I who am surprised you would think if offered the opportunity, an opportunity this leg of mine did not hinder me from fulfilling, I would refuse to serve Rome in the only way I have ever wished to serve her.”

“As a soldier… helping to kill more Britons!”

Marcus shook his head before answering, _“No.”_ And Marcus was adament. “Had the offer been for me to serve here in Britain, I would have refused! I am to command the Second Legion in Alexandria.”

Had Marcus let go and punched Esca straight in the face at that very moment, it would not have caught Esca as off guard as what Marcus had just said: _I am to command the Second Legion in Alexandria._

Marcus was leaving Britain. Marcus was leaving Esca and it did not seem to matter in the least bit to Marcus. A part of Esca was glad Marcus had spoken and revealed his plan to Esca, before he humiliated himself opening his heart to Marcus to tell him of his feelings for him. Esca was glad Marcus had spoken his peace and let Esca know exactly just how very little he meant to Marcus. Here he was about to apologize to the Roman, for what… for helping a girl in her time of need. But still, even if there was no guilt for having been there for Ariane, Esca had felt guilt for having put Marcus after her. But while Esca’s heart had been heavy for his temporary abandonment of Marcus, Marcus had been filling his hours with plans of a future without Esca.

Esca felt foolish. He felt childish. He felt betrayed, but the following question slipped past Esca’s lips without his wanting. “When do you leave Calleva?” And the second the words came out of his mouth, Esca wished he could swallow them back, but he needed to know.

“At weeks end.”

Now it was Esca’s turn to slap Marcus in the face with his own lie. A lie because he had not planned on returning to his own and taking on the role of Chieftain as he was about to state. The most Esca had planned was to meet with some of the men he met during his visit with Varney, while he and Marcus were in Eburacum, and relate his plans to them. Esca felt there was one among the men who would and could serve, protect, and benefit his people sitting in his father’s place, perhaps more than Esca could in his present state.

Esca was deeply in love with Marcus. Because of this he felt he could only function with Marcus at his side, and not at all without him. But Marcus would never be allowed to be at Esca’s side were Esca to take on his rightful role as Chieftain of the Brigantes, especially because Marcus was Roman; the Brigantes’ greatest and most hated enemy. When approached by Varney, Esca had given serious thought about assuming his role as Chieftain; the role he had been born for, but then his thoughts would return to Marcus. Esca would have to leave Marcus behind and that was something Esca could not do. So, he had decided to appoint another Brigantes in his place, and turn his attention to his life and his future with Marcus.

“I am glad to hear that.” Esca lied through his teeth. “That has eased the burden I felt in delivering my news to you.”

“What news?”

“That I have agreed to lead the Brigantes as their Cheiftain, as my father before me did. I would have felt I had broken my oath to you were I to have left you alone.”

Marcus tried holding back the shock and anger he was beginning to feel at Esca’s revelation. So that was what he had come to say: that he was leaving. But Marcus kept himself composed.

“Esca how many times must I remind you _that_ oath has long been fullfilled. No god would hold you accountable for having broken it, and neither would I.”

Esca nodded silent. And without meaning, Marcus asked what he should not have asked, “Shall you be taking the girl from the brothel with you?”

Esca’s eyes suddenly brimmed with fire, and the red in his face almost made him look like a god from the Underworld, _“What girl from the brothel?”_

Marcus swallowed hard knowing what he had just done was to destroy the trust and friendship he and Esca had enjoyed until then. But then again, what trust and friendship was Marcus thinking was left between them? Esca had been secretive about his comings and goings, and to Marcus that meant there was no longer any trust between them. And friendship is concerned where there is no trust, there can be no friendship.

Marcus raised his head unwilling to back away from whatever impending argument awaited, “Ariane. The girl who’s protector you have become.” There truly was no other way for Marcus to handle the situation, but with the truth. How would he have known about the _‘girl in the brothel,’_ without knowing anything else about her; or at least her name. Marcus knew Esca would have settled for no less had the caligae been on the other foot.

“And how do _you_ know her name?” Esca demanded to know through clenched and grinding teeth. He had not expected that. Not from Marcus! “What _spy_ returned you this news?”

“No one returned any news to me that I did not sort out on my own. I visited the brothel to discover the reason for your mysterious disappearances daily and I found it. The owner told me about your visits to Ariane.”

 _“And how did you know to learn of my disappearances in that brothel?”_ Esca spat out barely containing his fury.

“What does it matter how I came upon it? I came upon it and that is all that matters, for that is how I also found that _you_ , Esca MacCunoval, are a traitor and I have no use for traitors in my life!” Marcus’ heart broke with every word he spoke, but he had no other choice. This was the opportunity he had waited for to detach Esca from himself, for with every passing moment he found himself less able to detach himself from Esca.

Marcus would have gladly spent every minute of every day he had left on this earth, at Esca’s side, but that was of no help for Esca. Esca needed to feel he could leave Marcus’ side in favor of a life lived on his own terms and this was the only way. And if Esca left Marcus’ side hating him, all the better.

 _“Traitor?_ _I_ a _traitor?”_

 _“YES! You most certainly are a traitor!_ Or do you think I have forgotten your hiding the Eagle's whereabouts from me when you could have saved us both time and trouble by revealing where it was before our leaving Calleva. Had we never come upon Guern you would have had us coming home empty handed.”

 _“YES… and I would do it again!”_ Esca yelled. “I owed _my_ allegiance to _my_ tribe, _my_ people, _my_ father, mother, and brothers which _YOUR_ people killed! I owed you… I owe you _NOTHING_ Marcus!”

“But you did not need to lie to me about your woman. Do you think I would have cared?”

“What Ariane is to me, or what I am to her, is of no concern of yours. You need NOT have known anything of what I was doing. You seem to forget you are no longer my master, Marcus.”

“I have _not_ forgotten, but I shall _not_ be made a fool of again!”

Esca stepped back a few steps shaking his head, “You are _no_ fool, Marcus… I think it is I who has played the fool here. I fooled myself into thinking you were something you were not. I fooled myself into thinking you and I…” Esca stopped himself before he said what he could not take back. Not only because it would serve no purpose, but because Esca no longer wished to be at Marcus’ side. Marcus had proved himself to be untrustworthy and Esca could no longer look upon him, or regard him with any respect him.

Esca got to the door and turned away from Marcus and walked out of the room and out of Marcus' life.

Two weeks later, Marcus stood on the veranda outside his room watching the slow flow of the blue lake water beyond the garden. He missed Esca. He missed him as a starving man misses the food he use to eat. Marcus was not certain of how to live his life without Esca’s company. All he knew was that he had to learn to be without him.

And then there was the love for Esca that continued to burn deep within his broken heart. Marcus was unable to break free of it and he did not even know where to begin.

Perhaps if he left Calleva; left Britain altogether.

Marcus needed a new beginning with new surroundings and new friends. That might certainly help, but Marcus was unwilling to leave his uncle behind him. The older man had no other living relative and he had grown accustomed to having Marcus nearby. As for Marcus, now that Esca was no longer with him, his uncle kept him from feeling completely alone.

“Marcus ?” Uncle Aquila knocked once on the open door and peeked in to see if Marcus was in his room.

Marcus wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before turning toward his uncle.

“How about a game of latrones?”

“Of course, Uncle.” Marcus smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to thank those of you who have read this story. I hope this new chapter has been an enjoyable read for you. I also wish to thank, from the bottom of my heart, those of you who have shared their thoughts on the story with me. As well as those who have deemed it worthy of gifting me not only with your thoughts, but with a kudos. You have no idea how very blessed and appreciative I feel for your presence on this page. Thank you again and always.
> 
> Eli


	8. Chapter Eight

“It is I who am surprised you would think if offered the opportunity, an opportunity this leg of mine did not hinder me from fulfilling, I would refuse to serve Rome in the only way I have ever wished to serve her.” Marcus had proudly affirmed to Esca.

“Liar! Liar!!” Was all Esca could still bring himself to shout every time he remembered his former master’s words and how proudly he had said them: with chin lifted high and a smug look on his handsome face. Esca had had to hold himself back from slapping Marcus’ face until it bled, such was his anger. And then to discover Marcus had been shadowing his every move as though anything he did was the Roman’s business; as though he still owned him. 

“When I manumitted you, I did not do so with the intention of having you as my freedman, where I still need to know where you are and what you are doing.” Marcus had said and had continued his lie with the following, “I freed you completely…. It is no longer my concern where you go, nor whom you are with.”

Esca was incensed, but he could not tell who he was angrier with: himself or Marcus. After all, the purpose in his visit to Marcus had been to tell the Roman of his feelings for him… to open his heart to him. Marcus, on the other hand, had remained true to what he was: a soldier who lived and breathed for the glory of Rome. Esca should not have been surprised.

The two had been at odds in their plans for the future, through no fault of their own. If anyone, Esca was to blame. How could he have ever thought Marcus any different than any other soldier who serves the empire? No matter the nobleness of his heart or the inherent beauty of his soul, he was a Roman first and a friend second.

Esca had been a fool! A fool willing to turn his back on his own people to turn only toward Marcus and a life at his side. But Lugh had seen Esca’s weakness and would not allow it, of that Esca was certain. Otherwise, Marcus would not unwillingly have confessed his knowledge of Esca’s whereabouts, and his purposeful investigation of Ariane. Esca fell to his knees in a grateful gesture to the god of the Celts. He thanked the king of their gods for not having allowed him to fall victim to his own weakness and for having opened his eyes to who Marcus truly is.

Esca gathered himself, renewed strength and determination filling him throughout, jumped on his horse and continued his journey in the direction of Isca Brigantium; to his people, to his future, and to his destiny.

@@@@@@@@@@

Marcus stood slightly behind the Legatus’ right shoulder as his superior spoke to engineers about Emperor Antoninus’ order to begin work on the second wall to assure the safety and protection of the first. But Marcus’ mind was not on the second wall, and much less on the first one, although the latter held greater meaning. Marcus’ thoughts were on Esca for he had heard nothing of his friend for near a year and Marcus wondered what had become of him.

Oh, he knew Esca had gone to join his tribe and take the mantel of its Chieftain, but that was not what gnawed at the Roman’s thoughts every day and every night. Marcus wondered if Esca had fathered any children with Ariane. Had he made her his wife? How deeply had he grown to love her? Those were the thoughts that kept Marcus from sleep on many a night or tortured his dreams when he did sleep. Why had he not told him how he felt instead of creating a lie that had served for nothing more than to have Esca hate him. At least, if they had parted as friends, but to have parted as enemies…

“Marcus do you have any information that may serve to guide our engineer’s efforts in the building of this second wall?”

Marcus was satisfied with his position as the Legate’s assistant, although it was not in the capacity that he would have wished for himself, but it served its purpose; it kept him occupied and his mind distracted. 

“If you wish, Legate, I can sit with them and acquaint them with what I remember.”

“That is an excellent solution, but I think a more excellent solution would be for you to travel to the Wall with them where they may see first hand of what you speak.”

“Yes, Legate.” Marcus agreed even though it was not what he wished. Marcus could feel his heart sink and his stomach flip at the mere mention of returning to the North. Not that it would be in the same capacity, facing both danger and death head on, but the North was far from where Marcus would wish to find himself at any time. Besides… he would be nearer to Esca than he had been since the night of their quarrel.

“Very well… then you will leave by week’s end!” The Legate ordered with a smile and raised arms.

The three engineers bowed their heads at the Legate and exited the room; the very room where Marcus had returned the Eagle with Esca at his side. The Legate then turned to Marcus placing his hand on the former Centurion’s shoulder.

“You seem troubled Marcus. Is there something I should know? Something you are not telling me about the building of that second wall, perhaps?”

Marcus smiled and shook his head. “No, Legate. All is well. I do not anticipate any trouble during our surveying of the lands beyond the first wall, unless… of course… the tribes decide to attack it before we arrive, or while we are there.”

“I have heard of no such recent attacks against the Wall… and it use to happen quite regularly, mind you. But… since your return with the Eagle, your success seems to have humiliated the tribes and they have since been quiet. A renewed fear of Rome and her unconquerable might.”

Marcus, who had come to know first hand, the fearlessness of the Celts, knew better but did not wish to disagree with the Legate; it would suit no purpose. If the Legate wished to believe Marcus’ rescue of the Eagle had instilled the fear and awe of Rome into the tribes, let him think it. After all, the Legate would not believe Marcus were Marcus to argue otherwise. Roman hubris and the delusions it gave birth to; a thing not easily set aside.

That evening Marcus shared the news of his upcoming venture up north with Uncle Aquila, and the latter was not pleased with the news.

“Do you wish me to ask Claudius to send another in your place Marcus?” The elder Aquila volunteered willing to interfere on his nephew’s behalf were Marcus to show the slightest doubt.

“No, Uncle, besides… it is not for long, and it shall give me the opportunity to take to the road once again. A thing I have missed since returning from the North.”

Uncle Aquila nodded understanding and then he grinned widely, “When do you leave, my boy?” 

The elder Aquila knew how very much his nephew missed his friend and it was because of it that he had asked his old sparring partner to employ Marcus in a position befitting his accomplishments. The only position worthy of Marcus the Legate could think of was as his assistant, especially since Servius Placidus had been offered some position of note in Rome. The position of assistant to the Legate would keep Marcus’ mind off Esca’s absence, or so Uncle Aquila hoped. At least Esca had gone back to his lands and was surrounded by his own kind and Marcus was the very last thing on his mind. Unfortunately, Uncle Aquila doubted he could say the very same for Marcus.

“By weeks end.”

“Then I pray the gods the journey is a safe and easy one, my boy.” The elder Aquila embraced his nephew warmly as Marcus embraced his uncle in return.

Shortly, thereafter, both men retired to their rooms, but where Uncle Aquila fell to a sound sleep, Marcus tossed and turned most of the night; no different than the night before he and Esca had left Calleva for the northern wilds. Only then, Marcus had not been able to sleep thinking about his father and whether his quest would be a successful one.

This night Marcus lay awake thinking about Esca; thinking and wondering if he would ever see him again. And… might that happen now? 

After all, it was not as though the land of the Brigantes was far from the first wall, the Wall of Hadrian, the wall Marcus and Esca had crossed. And it was the thought that Marcus might come face to face with Esca that stole sleep from him that night. What would he do? What would he say? Would Esca pretend not to know him and walk past him as though they were strangers, or would he spit on the floor where Marcus was to walk upon to show his disrespect and hatred toward his one-time friend? 

Marcus was unsure, but he was certain of one thing: whatever Esca did, Marcus would not react, for he had only himself to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear ones, I wish to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. I have been caring for my dear mother, as well as tackling my next to last semester of nursing school, and things have been quite hectic. As always I wish to thank those of you who have follow this story, and I thank you both for your time, your comments, and kudos (if you think it worthy of such). I am forever grateful!!
> 
> Eli

**Author's Note:**

> I wish to thank those of you who have taken the time to read this work. I sincerely hope that you like it and that you do not consider having read it a waste of your time. And I wish to thank those of you who leave your comments, because I so very much look forward to reading your thoughts.


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